AmeViet Week 2017: Hanafuda Edition
by hanafuda
Summary: A week devoted to the love shared by America (Alfred) and Vietnam (Lien)
1. Day 1: Culture

"Wow. That's... meh. Now, I know why I don't like iced coffee."

"You don't like it?"

"I mean... it's okay... but, you know, hot coffee tastes better, to me."

"Hmm... there is a hot version of this one..."

"Really? Let me see!"

"Hmm..." Lien poured some condensed milk into a cup and added the coffee over it. "No ice, this time."

Alfred could only blame himself for falling into his predicament. He had to ask to check out Lien's culture. Lien quickly realized that by culture, he meant cuisine. It's easy to mix those two words up, being that they both start with "cu" and are two syllables, each. Your author mixes them up all the time, it's nothing to fret about. Maybe ESL learners would have better luck not messing the two up, just from their simple and unfortunate fear of making any mistakes around Americans who think English is the official language of the... wait. This isn't a debate. Oh. Silly me...

"Ooh, all right." Alfred took the cup and let it warm his hands before he took a sip. "There we go. That is... fantastic." He winked.

She blushed softly and forced a smile, lowering her head a bit and looking up at him. "I'm glad... you like it."

"Of course I do! ... for some reason, I thought you guys drank coffee out of bags. I heard that on the Internet, somewhere." The last seven words were quickly added, that he may not look a complete idiot to her.

"No..." She chuckled. "That wouldn't make sense." _Dummy._

"Sure didn't to me." He sipped some more coffee, looking quite happy. Dumb, too, since there was some coffee over his lips. Maybe he could pass that off as his bid for No-Shave November. "What did you make for breakfast, again?"

"Bun Bo," she responded.

Alfred heard "Bilbo", at first - he'd just rewatched the Hobbit trilogy - but quickly guessed that she meant "bun", like a type of bread, or, for Beret Guy, a bunny. "... a... bun?"

"Let me show you." She opened that pot to reveal rice noodles topped with chunks of beef, peanuts, tomato bits, and a piece of lemon on the side.

Alfred widened his eyes. "Huh. You sure like your rice noodles."

Lien nodded and smiled softly at him. "Would you like some, now?"

"Sure! Can't hurt." _Yes, it could._

"Why would it..." She shrugged it off, not completing her thought, and gave him some in a bowl with chopsticks.

"How do you guys eat this stuff so fast?" This from the American that could eat a whole burger in one bite. _In the 1940s._

"We grow up with it, that's how." She kept her smile on, managing expertly not to let out a laugh of any sort.

"Seems legit." Alfred took some noodles, a piece of beef, and some peanuts in his chopsticks and ate it, tasting the lime instantly. "Mm. Tastes... strangely familiar." _Do I even like lime?_

"Beef and rice? in a bowl at a 'Chinese' restaurant?" She'd been to a few, and been... mildly surprised, each time, mostly not at the menu choices, but at how well the food was prepared, and how dedicated the chefs there seemed to be at every one.

"Yeah. Plus peanuts. They seem more like small bits of nothing, compared to the way I usually eat them." That Planters mascot came to mind, suddenly.

"Really? I don't think I'd ever eat a whole peanut... I never once imagined that's how would one think to."

"Now you know. And knowing is half the battle. _G.I. Joe~!_ " He smirked, leaving her to blush a little. "It's good."

"I'm glad you think so. I usually finish a bowl in under ten minutes, but after at least five."

"Crap. Better hurry." He began to eat a little more quickly.

* * *

"It's been ten minutes."

"Dammit. I haven't even eaten all the peanuts."

"You're almost at fifteen."

"Lien! Let me enjoy this! I'm almost done. Man, these small ones are impossible to... Gah! I'm done." He set the bowl down and sighed. "That was pretty good."

She nodded.

* * *

"What's for lunch?"

"Pho." Even Lien didn't know how to say it correctly.

"Of course. Could I get chicken in mine?"

"No." She giggled, knowing that the American would either want that on his pho, or beef. Maybe she would have given him just the tendon, to mess with him.

"What?" He tilted his head and frowned. "Lien..." he whined.

"Shrimp!"

"Shrimp? Oh, well... I guess that's okay. You eat shrimp?"

"Rarely."

"Oh." His pupils dilated. Cuss words flowed through his brain.

She set the bowl in front of him. "I'll give you fifteen minutes, this time."

"Come on... fine. This should be easier..." He first sipped the broth with the spoon and immediately picked up the taste of shrimp. "Ooh..."

"What do you think?"

"Shrimp." He sighed. "Okay, here goes..." Alfred picked up a piece of shrimp that was submerged in the broth and ate it. "..."

Lien smiled.

"Ehhhh... it's... this stuff is okay."

"Eat up. You're already down to fourteen minutes."

"Oh, boy!"

* * *

He managed to get it done in under ten.

"Did you like it?"

 _"No,"_ he boomed. "I hate how Fridays at buffet places are seafood nights. I stopped liking seafood in the 19th century, for... bleh..." He sighed. "It was okay. Seafood is okay. I just really wanted chicken with my pho..."

"One wish left not granted can ruin your appetite?"

 _"Yes."_

"Did you like the soup?"

 _"Yes._ Wait, no, I mean..." He huffed. "You're good, you."

Lien chuckled. "I learned it from you."

"Just you wait until you have to eat what I eat."

"After dinner and dessert," she said with a wink.

"I have high hopes."

* * *

"Spring rolls with shrimp?" Alfred let out a groan and banged his head upon the table. Ah, if only Lien knew to make a gif of that. The author might actually be famous on Tumblr.

For one post with a couple thousand notes.

* * *

"Mm. These are good. I taste bean. Never thought I'd appreciate _that_ for dessert."

"Really, everyone should try banh cam at one point or another." Sounds like exposition to your author.

"Mm-hmm..." He ate a few more.

And by a few, I do, of course, mean all ten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~helpi'mstuckinatildefactory~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cereal? This is just bits of flakes in milk." The author read this sentence and clapped at its perfection.

"Frosted Flakes." Corporate America wins again.

"Frosted with what?"

"Sugar. Theeeey'rre grrreeeat!" He didn't have a good impression of Tony the Tiger, but even Uncle Joey might be hard-pressed to replicate that one, either.

"Sure..." She ate some. "Hmm. Decent." Decent, incidentally, is... ah, the- someone, has, umm, just been handed a note telling them to... uh... yeah.

"There you go, you're earning your stripes, now."

"I sure feel... something."

* * *

"Cheeseburgers? Of course..."

"And fries... and a large soda... and milkshakes... how could you not love this?"

They'd be more lovable if they were still 30 cents a piece and not ten times that price a half of a century later.

She bit into what they called "The General". You thought two patties was tough? Try three. She stopped mid-bite, almost as if realizing that her tactics had failed miserably.

Alfred stared. "Umm..."

Lien finally bit that piece off and chewed it. "..."

"..."

Her eyes twinkled. "That's... not bad at all."

"Of course not, right?"

* * *

"Oh... oh, no."

Alfred's first buffet plate? A cheeseburger. And some fries and vegetables and garlic knots and marinara sauce and cuts of prime rib and ham and chicken legs.

Yes, most of that stuff was stacked on top of the other items mentioned there.

"What's that?" he asked Lien, as if she were dumb.

"Spaghetti..." she responded, rather sheepishly, just staring at Alfred's plate.

He nodded and dug into his first plate.

First.

* * *

"So... you go serve yourself more?"

"They call it all you can eat for a reason."

"Not all you _do_ eat..." Her next plate was a sandwich and some dumplings. _Yay, Asian food sections in America..._

* * *

"I can't eat... anymore..." Lien sat back and closed her eyes, sighing contently.

"I can!" Alfred began to eat some cheesecake. His dessert plate also featured some cookies, cream puffs, two pieces of chocolate cake, a piece of carrot cake, and an eclair. There was a dish of two scoops of cookie dough-flavored ice cream and a mug of hot chocolate on the side, as well.

She opened her eyes and stared. "What...‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang in one of seven of this story's chapters, was content.

"What?" Alfred put a fork with some cheesecake, ice cream, and a cream puff into his mouth and ate it rather easily.

"... nothing..." Lien yawned and leaned on him. Alfred blushed softly at that and simply carried on eating until she wrapped her arms around him from the side, trapping his fork-carrying hand under the table. He closed his eyes and decided to try and fall asleep, too, until a waitress managed to wake them both up. The two left, but not before Alfred managed, in under three minutes, to scarf the rest down.

* * *

"No, I'm not wearing an áo dài."

* * *

 **The first chapter always sucks. ^^**


	2. Day 2: Outdoors

"Lien, it's November. Why would you want to go to a beach?"

"My entire country is hot, all year. That's what tropical climate does to a country."

"Oh... well, I'm dumb."

"You're not."

"Well, thanks."

The two biked to one of Saigon's beaches, because bikes are cool. Maybe not as cool as that random statue of a sphere with the Vietnamese words for Courage, Friendship, Wisdom, and Love etched into it, but... still. At least Lien could understand why he'd want a picture, even if not his explanation that he wanted to show it to Kiku.

Alfred could feel the heat, the whole way there. The feeling was much different than that of biking in, say, New York, crowded and noisy as it was. Here, there was no litter, no raging drivers, but instead peace and quiet.

Until he hit a curb and flipped over, hitting the grass. "Oof!"

"Alfred!" Lien stopped and ran over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm dying... tell Matthew... I'm sorry... and he owes me money..."

She giggled and helped him up. "This is why I like you, so much."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "It's why I like me, so much, too."

"You sound like Gilbert, now."

"Do you like Gilbert?"

"Not as I like you."

"Well, then." He looked forward and saw a sparsely-populated beach and blue water. "Ah. We made it."

"That we did."

"Damn, it's humid."

"You'll feel better when you go into the water."

"Sure hope so." He took her hand and walked over. "Huh, maybe we shouldn't leave the towels and stuff near the bikes."

"Oh, right."

One trip there and back later...

Damn, you're lazy, author.

Shut up.

* * *

Alfred floated on the water and sighed happily. "This reminds me of Catalina Island..."

"Where's that?"

"South of L.A. Ferry there."

She nodded as she sat on the beach, near where Alfred was. He was lucky that he'd managed to coerce her into picking out a red one-piece, which was, at least, fortunately for Lien, in her eyes, not very revealing. Plus, they matched his red swim trunks from Target. Good things come from Target.

"So, what are you reminded of?"

"This one beach I stayed a night at... I was floating on the water there, and lying on the sand and letting the waves go over and underneath me... For months, afterwards, every time I lied down, whether just on a couch or bed or the floor, I felt that same wavy sensation on my back."

"That must be nice." She smiled softly at him.

"Why aren't you getting in the water?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes!" He took her hand and tried to drag her in.

"Hey!" She fought back, but eventually was forced into the water, due to his insane strength. Ah, if only he'd shown that half a century ago... Soon, she was entirely submerged, and when she came back up, she glared at Alfred.

"Doesn't it feel nice?"

"Hmmph." Lien sighed and decided to float on her back, as well. Her ponytail looked rather weird - only really to Alfred, of course - floating on the water in as thin a strand as it was tied, by the small hairband with a plum blossom on the side Mei had once gifted her.

"Let your hair down, Lien."

"Why?"

"Don't you like wearing it down?"

"No."

"Come on..."

"No." She moved slightly away from him, prompting him to swim at her. "Hey!" She flushed and tried to move away as she let that out, trembling somewhat in the water.

Alfred managed to reach her and tried to undo her hairband. Lien swatted him away, but stopped and stared in disbelief when he held up the hairband and pocketed it.

"Give it back!"

"Only if you promise to wear your hair down for the rest of the day."

"..." She sighed. "Fine."

"Wait... you don't have pockets, do you?"

"No." She flushed, remembering just what she was wearing.

He chuckled softly. "I'll keep it in my pocket, then."

"You'd better not lose it, or else." She gave him a serious look.

"I won't! My pockets have zippers, after all." He put the hairband in his right pocket, making sure there was no water in it, and zipped it before he went back to wading. A lightbulb appeared over his head, and crashed on top of him. "Ow!"

"Huh?"

"... Nothing." He splashed some water at her face.

"Hey!" She glared at him, again.

"What are you going to do about it?" He crossed his arms and smirked.

Lien used both of her arms to splash some water at Alfred.

Alfred laughed as the cold water hit him. "Nice! Can you top this?" He used his whole right arm to splash some water at Lien. It only just reached her torso.

"Okay." She smirked and kicked her leg from the side, splashing water at his face again.

"Hahaha~!" Alfred just went back to splashing her with his hands, moving as quickly as he could while he was at it. Lien couldn't match that speed, not being used to splashing others.

"Do you always do this?" she wondered aloud.

"Of course! Tell me when you give up."

Lien moved over to him and dunked his head underwater. Alfred's voice was bubbles as he struggled. She pulled him back up and smiled softly. "Tell me when you give up."

"I give up."

"You wouldn't dare try that to me."

"Reverse psychology much?" He smirked.

Lien kept a straight face.

Alfred pushed her underwater and was kicked in the chest, forcing him backwards as Lien came back up and chopped his bare stomach. "Acka!" came out of his mouth before he went under for a few seconds. He coughed up water when he came back up. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, too," she sighed.

"... maybe we should dry off, now."

"Mm."

* * *

"What's that pail for, anyways?"

"Sand castles!"

"Castles?" Lien was taken aback. "Castles are symbols of monarchy! And I have done everything to keep monarchy out of my nation!"

"Yeah, well, your version of TSA at the airport clearly didn't keep my pail meant for children out of the nation. Neither did my TSA, knowing I would use it here."

Lien raised a finger and opened her mouth, but put the finger down and sighed, instead. "Quite true."

When Alfred was finished with his sand castle, Lien stomped on it and planted a miniature version of her flag over it.

He frowned at her.

She smiled.

...

"Is this better?" Alfred built a replica of the Vietnam National Convention Center.

"Of course it is." Lien put her flag at the top and was content.

"Hey, want to bury me in the sand?" he offered.

"Is that common in America? That seems silly," she commented.

"It is."

"Of course. Let's do it over here..." She began to dig out sand in a spot near the water. Alfred, not thinking much of it, decided to help her out in that spot. Ten minutes later, all that was above the sand was his head. He smiled up at her.

"Have fun." She walked away.

"Uh? Lien...?" He gave her a worried look, though she clearly didn't have eyes on the back of her head to see through her flowing hair of medium length to notice. He turned around and watched helplessly as water crashed over him. He spat some out and tried his hardest to wiggle out of the hole, water surrounding him in the meantime, receding again and again.

"Liiiiieeeeeeeeeeennnnnn!"

 _Newman!_

* * *

"Wh-what are you doing‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang in two of seven of this story's chapters, was content.

Alfred stayed silent as he carried Lien over his shoulders, ready to stuff her into a giant snowball he'd made.

"Leeet goooo!"

Sadly, there was no Jewel inside her that would push away Alfred with some magic powers. He stuffed her foot-first into that giant snowball and walked away, quite content.

* * *

 **I live in Las Vegas. Do you think I've ever experienced a snowball fight, in my life? XD**

 **I have read Calvin and Hobbes though, which inspired the last scene, only, Susie Derkins is the one stuffing Calvin into a giant snowball.**

 **Also, please excuse the InuYasha reference. Perhaps it's not the only one, though...**


	3. Day 3: Holidays

"Thanksgiving? Isn't that the day when people flood stores for cheap products?"

"No, no, that's Black Friday, which comes the day after," Alfred corrected with a smirk.

"So, we're shopping for the things we need seventeen days early?"

"Yeah, the stuff we'll need, like the things for the stuffing and pumpkin pie and all, will probably be selling out by the week of Thanksgiving."

She nodded and stared at all of the pumpkins, artificial and not, and the tables with cloths expressing leaves and hats with buckles and feathers and such. Orange, a color Alfred once said was associated with the feeling of hunger, stood out to her above all. Red, brown, yellow, and yes, orange leaves adorned the trees in the little market the two were exploring.

"I notice... many pumpkins."

"Yeah, we sure love our pumpkins, in November."

"Don't you use pumpkin mix in coffee?"

"The spice, yeah."

She nodded. "That sounds quite interesting..."

"Want to go to Starbucks? They have the best pumpkin spice coffee around, it's a latte."

"Really..."

* * *

Upon entering Starbucks, Lien was surprised that there were not so many pumpkins around. Only on the windows, and on the counter with the cash registers and the other counter where the drinks and food were set out, and... in the middle of each table. _Now when I think of_ harvest _, all I see are pumpkins... good job, Alfred..._

Soon, Lien saw a white cup with a brown cardboard sleeve around it in between her hands. She realized that the scent was rather familiar, but was now much more potent. The room was warmer than the market outside that Alfred had taken her to, and everyone inside was much quieter and more relaxed than said market. She noticed that Alfred was sipping his own drink slowly. _What did he order, again?_ She tried to remember.

 _"I'll take a five-shot espresso, please," Alfred told the barista, who instantly paled and quickly answered, "U-um... would you like any syrup... in that?"_

 _"NO."_

Alfred smiled as he set the cup down on the table next to him. _She got it right._

Lien decided, finally, to take a sip of the coffee. Her eyes widened, and red coated her cheeks when she saw that Alfred was watching her. She smiled up at him.

* * *

The oven was preheated to 180 degrees Celsius. Alfred had managed, after a few tries, to remember the formula for converting Fahrenheit to Celsius, but by then, Lien had already set the temperature. "Erm, Alfred, how do you make the crust?"

"I'll handle it." He grabbed a tin, some butter, and graham crackers from the pantry. "Watch and learn."

She nodded and simply watched as Alfred coated the bottom and sides of the pan with butter and sugar, broke together some graham crackers, and began to stick them to the sides, rather haphazardly. "That doesn't seem-"

But soon she was interrupted by a whirring sound of medium volume. Cream cheese, pumpkin, sugar, eggs, cinnamon, vanilla, and nutmeg were all being mixed together with some apparatus that, Lien imagined, was designed by a baker who thought he'd make a few more bucks by inventing some machine that did all the hard mixing of the batter for him. _The next device they'll come up with is a piece of plastic shaped like a tin that one puts their preferred ingredients for a crust into and sticks to the side of a tin._

"Why are you crying?" she asked as Alfred cut some onions that went swiftly into a pot filled already with bits of chicken, wheat bread cubes, and celery.

At the end of the night, she put the turkey in the oven while Alfred rested on the couch. A pan of deviled eggs, bowls of stuffing and mashed potatoes, saucers of gravy and cranberry sauce, tins of pumpkin cheesecake, and... _buckets of biscuits and bowls of mac and cheese from_ _KFC‽_

Your author, having used an interrobang in three of seven of this story's chapters, was content.

Lien just stared at them, and the silence was broken by Alfred's snoring.

 _They made his coffee wrong..._

* * *

"What are you thankful for, Lien?"

"... that my country is prosperous... and that yours and mine get along well, together. And that... we're as close as we are." She nodded to show that that was all she had to say.

Alfred nodded back and hummed. "I'd like to thank God, my team, my pit crew, Walmart, Target, 7-11, Bank of America, Cintas, Coca-Cola, Coors Light, Craftsman Tools, Disney, DIRECTV, DRIVE4COPD, DuPont, Exide, Gillette, Goodyear, Head & Shoulders, Mars, Mobil 1, Nabisco, Nationwide, Office Depot, Old Spice, O'Reilly's, SIRIUS XM Radio, Sprint, Sunoco, Unilever, UPS, Visa, K & N, Toyota, Pepsi, eBay, FedEx, Sunoco fuel, Another Castle®, your mom, and SpaceX for helping me get to the front after that long 500 mile race. Can't wait till next weekend, as there's a road course, and it involves a right turn... crap. I'm American, and I can't turn right."

Lien looked up from her biscuit covered in stuffing and bits of the dark side of the turkey. "Hmm?"

"Nothing," Alfred replied with a sigh, as he ate a piece of his turkey with mac and cheese, gravy, and cranberry sauce on top.

* * *

"I GOT THE XBOX ONE X!" Alfred yelled, dropping the box containing said console to reveal that his shirt was covered in a red liquid.

"What's that on y-"

"I GOT THE XBOX ONE X!"

* * *

 **Alfred's thanks comes from Uncyclopedia's NASCAR page, which I helped write, back in the day. The last joke is from a Brandon Calvillo Vine, even though in that one, it was a PS4 he walked in with.**

 **The red liquid was spilled marinara sauce. Stop asking questions.**


	4. Day 4: SFW

**No. The author is, today, in November of 2017, when this story was written, underage, and will not write anything not safe for work now. Most likely, the same will be true in the future.**

* * *

Alfred yawned softly and stretched his arms out as Lien took the movie out of the DVD player. The former said after another long yawn, "Woody was definitely the best character."

"Not Hager?"

"Nah, Woody is a cooler name, after all, and soccer is cool, some times. Plus, rain is pretty common in Saigon, anyways, huh?"

"... Alfie, were you even paying attention?"

"Of course I… wha...? Alfie‽ Where'd that come from?"

Your author, having used an interrobang in four of this story's seven chapters, was content.

"From Alfred." Lien smiled and walked over to him, putting her hands at his sides, making him blush.

"I like it," Alfred responded, smiling softly at her. "Ah, if only I could come up with a decent nickname for you..."

"Hmm... maybe... no..."

"What?"

She shook her head. "You seem quite tired, anyways. It's nearly midnight, too. Let's go to sleep."

"Eh, I think it's only eleven. I keep forgetting to switch that clock back..."

"Regardless, we should rest for tomorrow."

He nodded and sighed, deciding to lift Lien off her feet.

"Hey!"

He managed to hold her easily in his arms with his immense strength, and he carried her to his bedroom, where he set her down. He walked quickly on his toes to the other end of the bed and dived onto it, sending a creaking noise into four ears. When the mattress came back up, due to the Third Law of Motion, Lien was pushed up into the air. Alfred rolled underneath and caught her when she fell back down, because the Third Law of Motion.

"Why are you breathing so fa—OW!"

* * *

Alfred noticed that, unlike his cheek, Lien's hands (her right, which he held in his left, at least), were rather cold. "Good night, Lien."

"Good night, Alfred."

"What happened to Alfie?"

"Hmm…" Lien had fallen asleep before she could answer.

 _Man, she sure goes out real fast._ He watched her torso, on which she'd draped her left arm, rise and fall and smiled, knowing she'd be at peace.

He didn't really know, since Lien began to toss and turn half of the way in. The only reason he noticed is that he was still awake at midnight. He let out a noise of fear when Lien scooted towards him, arms outstretched, and could feel how fast his heart was beating when his chest was pressed right against hers, held tightly together with Lien's arms behind him. Hoping to fall quickly asleep soon afterwards, he nuzzled into her neck and closed his eyes, but found himself unable. Only the monotonous action of rubbing her back and playing with her ponytailed hair felled him into sleep.

It only took three hours. The moon wasn't out, but the stars provided all the light needed. As did, of course, the lights on the street.

* * *

Alfred's eyelids felt weak, and he struggled to open them. It was seven in the morning, according to his phone, which he trusted. He was still in Lien's arms, and she in his. Her cute snoring provided the only soundtrack until some jerks of birds began chirping, and he resisted the urge to pull himself away, stand, and bang the window, which was his first instinct. _Maybe my whale will get them._ Lien stirred, nevertheless, and he turned around to watch as she, too, struggled to open her eyes. This was known to him because she didn't bother trying to open her eyes, but instead hummed softly to confirm her consciousness.

"Good morning, Lien."

"Chào buổi sáng."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Vâng," she affirmed, smiling with her eyes closed.

"I didn't."

"Ah." She pouted. "What time is it?"

"7."

"Let's just stay in bed, then."

He nodded and began to rub her back. She let out a soft sound of pleasure. Alfred's words, in his mind, not mine. She decided to repeat this action until she realized that they were both simply trying to tighten their holds on each other, moving their bodies and arms for this effect. Alfred placed his head back into Lien's neck, and she responded by facing upwards, eyes still closed, and sighing contentedly.

"… the meeting is at 7:30, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Alfred jumped from the bed and, meaning to dash to the closet to dress himself, tripped over the stand of his ironing board, only then realizing he was still dressed in his uniform, plus bomber jacket. He picked up Lien, who was still in the process of expressing her shock at Alfred's clumsiness, and ran her out the door.

* * *

 **This may be the shortest chapter. Also, interrobangs for the win. I think I'll leave the cuddles to other people, despite suspecting that most of the contributions people will make for Day 4 will not be safe for work, and thus unsuitable for me to view.**


	5. Day 5: Competition

**When I saw that Day 5 was for Competition, I knew there was only one option, for me.**

* * *

"... Daytona?"

"Let's go away, let's go away, Daytoooonaaaaaaaa..." Alfred sung quietly. "This place alone redeems Florida."

"Is that so... well... I'd assume we'll be driving circles, then?"

"Not circles, Lien. A tri-oval. It's like an oval, but in between turns 1 and 4, there's a few kinks that make it look like a triangle, when you add in pit road as the base."

Lien stared at him, trying to make sense of his explanation, but she decided to simply nod. She looked around the place and realized that it was much larger than she'd imagined. She'd watched NASCAR races with Alfred on occasion, not least of which the Daytona 500 and Coke Zero 400, _but... hmm. I suppose it does make sense, now._

Alfred led Lien by her hand towards the garage. The entire infield was nothing but empty lots at this point, but she could remember from television how the area was filled with trailers and mobile homes with flags of red, white, and blue, as well as with the numbers and colors of the cars of the families' favorite drivers and such. There was a strange smell in the air, one which seemed to her like steamed meat and vegetables. _Burgers, perhaps._ "So, are we going to simply hang out, or are we going to go driving?"

"Patience, young Padawan," Alfred said, though he suspected that was not an accurate quote from the prequel trilogy, which he thought was okay. Not great, but acceptable. He unlocked the door to one of the garages, which really would guarantee him access to all of them, and he opened the white door, which retracted and went upwards at a constant speed, letting out a rather satisfying mechanical sound while at it. Inside the garage, as it turned out, was a leftover Toyota Camry used for testing. The other spots in the garages were occupied by some Ford Fusions and Chevy SSs as well.

"You'll teach me how to drive one, right?"

"Yeah! Pick one."

"This one."

"... just because it's right there?"

"That, and it's Japanese. I like Japanese products."

"I do, too. Well, then." He went to work installing a passenger seat and seatbelt. It may not have been very comfortable, but it would suffice. That done, he put in some earplugs and grabbed some balaclavas, helmets, and HANS device tools, handing one pair of each to Vietnam. "I hope you don't mind the lack of fireproof suits."

* * *

After putting on some fireproof suits, earplugs, balaclavas, and helmets with HANS devices, Alfred lowered the net and let Lien enter first. She stumbled in and nearly hit her head on the shift stick, but managed to fumble her way into the seat and buckled herself up. The American of the group made sure everything in the engine was nice and tidy before he sat in, buckled himself up, and put the steering wheel onto the steering column, locking it in. He turned to the Vietnamese woman next to him and yelled, "Can you hear me?"

Silence.

He nudged her shoulder, forcing her to turn towards him, and shouted, "Can you hear me?"

"What?"

The engine came on, revving up all the way to about 9,000, before going to rest at about 1,500. Even with the earplugs in, the sound was deafening to Lien. After all, she was right in front of where that engine was. Alfred was, too, but he was used to the sound, having had to deliver the call, "Gentlemen, start your engines!" many times before.

This was before the ladies got involved in NASCAR.

Lien just sat back and tried to relax, but she picked the wrong time, since Alfred pushed down the clutch, shifted into second, and immediately took his left foot off said clutch and slowly pressed his foot to the gas pedal, obviously accelerating the car slightly, from 0 to 45 in the space of two seconds. She felt a bit pushed back, and watched as Alfred pushed a button. "me now?" was heard, with static surrounding.

"Huh?"

"Can you hear me now?"

"Yes, I can. I'd assume the radios are on, then?"

"Correct!"

"Anyways... are we only going to take a slow trip around the track so that I can watch your movements closely?"

"Nope! I'm going full throttle."

"HUH‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang in five of this story's seven chapters, was content.

Once Alfred left pit road, he began to go up to speed. "Oops. I forgot to put on the restrictor plates."

"What‽ ... What are restrictor plates? Do I want to know?"

"They make sure the car can't rev up all the way on Daytona and Talladega, pretty much limiting the cars' speeds to 190 and making slipstreaming even more important."

"What can you usually reach without restrictor plates?"

"Hmm..." Alfred merged onto the track, having already reached 160.. "250."

Lien's eyes widened, and her heart sank. "No... how do I see how fast we're going?"

"We just have to guess. The track is 2.5 miles long, so if we go 250 mph, we should get a lap done in... thirty seconds or so, yeah? No speedometer. Just the tachometer and our guts and instinct."

Alfr- aah!" Lien leaned back as he pushed it down the back straight and turned into turns three and four, the latter of which was not nearly so tight, and flowed rather easily onto the front straight which, as Alfred explained and Lien could clearly make out, resembled a triangular shape. Lien finally managed to calm down and watch how Alfred drove throughout the track, and after ten laps, Alfred pulled into the pits.

"So! Do you think you can handle it now?"

"... yes."

"Okay."

* * *

"All right, Lien, can you hear me?"

"Isn't that the third time you've asked?"

"Just making sure. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay. When the green lights come on around the track, you start accelerating and racing hard, okay?"

"Alfred, are you only letting me take the lead so that you can laugh at me later about how easily you took the lead anyways?"

Silence followed on the radio.

When Lien saw the green lights, she mashed on the pedal, spinning the tires. Alfred got a better start, but he decided to stay behind and draft Lien's Camry. He imagined that his SS would be a bit faster and have more grip, so he was content with doing so. Lien felt her heart jump every time she had to lift off and shift into a higher gear, all three times, but soon saw that she needn't do it again once she was up to speed. The turns would do any slowing necessary. Down the back straight, she found herself looking in the mirror time and time again, and decided not to by the time the second lap was on. The steering wheel seemed a bit easier to control every time she turned it, but it still seemed to go against her instincts, what with the way it moved. Alfred, who had been driving these cars for generations, was quite used to it, but felt that, from Lien, he could learn a bit.

For example, he didn't know how to pass properly. He usually just winged it.

It was lap 5, and Lien could feel the sweat soaking her balaclava, and perhaps even her fireproof suit. It was quite hot, but fortunately for her, she lived in a tropical climate, so it wasn't a big deal. The big deal was that she was strapped into an uncomfortable cockpit in a machine meant only for racing, of which comfort was more an opposite, than anything. Again, Alfred was used to it, and that American felt a strange amalgamation of emotions flow when he saw the rear end of Lien's Camry back out a bit as, out of instinct, thinking that she was now turning the wheel - and thus the car - a bit too far through turn 1, she turned the wheel slightly back to the right, a motion that she'd intended to be smooth but which came out, against her wishes, rather swiftly and jerkily. Alfred capitalized and felt himself lean forward, as if he were in a video game, as he tried to make the pass heading out of turn 2. But, just as suddenly, she jerked the car back into her control, and right into Alfred's path. The SS nudged the Camry's read bumper somewhat and, surprisingly, upset the balance of the Chevy, and not the Toyota. Alfred could feel the lost speed and easily recognized that Lien was gaining fractions of inches on him every second down the back straight.

The final lap, 10, seemed to come an eternity later for Lien, and she wanted nothing more than to win, by this time. Turns 1 and 2 seemed to take forever to get through, and she wondered how any sane human being could go 20 times the distance she'd just been. 25 miles was a decent distance to march per day back in her youth, not a distance to be traveled in loops within the space of fewer than ten minutes. Just thinking about that put her down the front straight, and some blue on her side made her turn her head. Alfred was right there, in the Camry, moving down the inside. She mashed the pedal down, but to no avail. The act of lifting off to push down again actually, in the end, only slowed her down. Alfred filed in front of her as the two cars flew into turn 3. Lien tried to stick to the inside, which she only then remembered Alfred doing while he was driving her around the track just some minutes before then. The sparks coming from Alfred's car as it bottomed out threw her off by the beginning of turn 4, where something strange happened.

Lien made a bit of contact with Alfred, sending him spinning. His car's tires immediately produced smoke as the car skidded into a 180 out of turn 4 and slammed and inside wall just by pit road at about 220 miles and hour, smashing the car and sending it spinning in the air across pit road until it - what was left of it, anyways - came to a rest on the grass. She'd crossed the line by that time, of course, and she quickly made her way back around the track and managed to slow the car to a stop. Alfred was going to let down the window net, but it had already detached itself entirely from the slightly mangled roof of the car. The bumper was smashed on the right side, the hood was lying in front of a pit stall, and various engine parts were strewn about, fresh and scalding rubber bits under Lien's feet as she ran to the wreck. "Alfred‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang again, was content, until he realized that the chunks of text he'd written here were unlike anything he'd written in any other story, save, possibly, for his old chess fictions, of which, he seemed to remember, only one was actually still on the site. Or is it two...?

"Alfred!"

"Oh, dear, it's happened again," he said in his best British accent as he stepped out of the car and looked at himself to make sure all his limbs were still in place, and no bones or other body parts were in the wrong spot, if not broken entirely. "Well. That was fun."

"Are you all right?" She ran to him and put her hands at his sides. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea that that would happen... I didn't see it coming..."

"It's fine... you won, anyways," he said, chuckling nervously as he removed his helmet and balaclava, if only, as it seemed, to scratch his head. "Man, you smell."

"Hey!" Lien frowned.

"Must be the sweat. Wasn't that fun, though?" Alfred wondered, hoping, of course, for a positive answer.

"... mm-hmm." She nodded and sighed as she removed her own helmet and balaclava. "..."

He pecked her lips, making her blush.

"Want me to chase you around the track?"

"Sure."

And, by the time the sun had set, the moon and stars were above them in the sky, and the floodlights had come on, Alfred was still running for his life down the backstraight.

* * *

 **And to think the longest chapter so far was about driving stock cars around Daytona. XD The last chapter will definitely have to be a cracker. Time to work on Day 6, already, really.**


	6. Day 6: Domestic

"Lien, you always do the cleaning. Why don't you let me do it, today? It's Saturday! You should relax."

"Ah..." Lien looked up from the floor that she was sweeping. "Thank you, Alfred. I think you'll rather enjoy vacuuming the carpet, mopping the tile and wood, dusting the furniture, washing the dishes, taking out the trash, and, of course, since it's fall..."

Alfred's eyes widened, and his cheeks went red. "... and I'll be making the meals today, too?"

"Mm-hmm." She nodded.

* * *

The floor was dustier than it usually seemed, what with all the foot traffic there, anyways. If the two had a dog, the job would have been harder. But, Alfred did notice that the tiles, wooden and not, were shinier and more colorful after he mopped. Next, he vacuumed the carpet, constantly finding ways to suck up the rugs and runners lying about. A look under these rugs and runners revealed that their undersides were rather dirty, and there were many specks of dust and fabric falling onto the floor. Alfred threw the rugs and runners outside and sprayed them with the hose.

Lien took a warm shower. It was November, after all, and it was becoming chillier as the days went by.

He draped the rugs and runners over the small gate leading to their backyard - it was quite clear that those were meant for a time when neighbors were actually neighbors and interacted often (the George Lopez Show was a perfect example that came to his mind) - and headed inside to tackle the job of dusting the furniture. One quick, squinting glance at them through his glasses revealed just how dusty they, too, were. He realized this meant sweeping and vacuuming again.

She decided to put on some green sweatpants and a white blouse, expecting to be staying at home for the remainder of the day.

He looked up at the clock and saw that it was only 8:30. He took a short break to make himself coffee but, imagining that Lien would be suspicious at the lack of sounds of cleaning from the house, downed the coffee he'd poured and went right to work on washing the dishes, not least of which the mug. Yesterday's dinner of pho was quite taxing for the American, and the smell of the broth and meat that lingered on his clothes afterwards, one which he had experienced before at some pho places in America he'd frequented, was also there in those dishes. The scent of green apples soon replaced that one, to his relief, and within no time, the dishes were all done, left to dry.

She was about to put her hair into a ponytail when some memory re-entered her mind.

 _"Let your hair down, Lien."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Don't you like wearing it down?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Come on..."_

 _"No." She moved slightly away from him, prompting him to swim at her. "Hey!" She flushed and tried to move away as she let that out, trembling somewhat in the water._

 _Alfred managed to reach her and tried to undo her hairband. Lien swatted him away, but stopped and stared in disbelief when he held up the hairband and pocketed it._

 _"Give it back!"_

 _"Only if you promise to wear your hair down for the rest of the day."_

 _"..." She sighed. "Fine."_

She decided, then, to keep her hair down. It looked nicer with her blouse on, that way, anyways, in her view, as she looked in the mirror.

Alfred collected the trash from all the bathrooms, not least of which that in his and Lien's room. She was sitting on the bed, and she watched a blond American go through the room, into the bathroom to take out the trash and replace the bag, and head out, without even noticing her. A breath left her lips, which Alfred didn't hear, too busy with thoughts flying through his mind and bouncing off the walls therein.

"Alfred?"

"Yes?" He smiled upon hearing Lien's sweet voice and headed to the room. "What is it?"

Lien was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, hands folded together over her mid-torso. She answered simply: "Can you put the dirty clothes to wash, and then dry, and then fold or hang them up?"

Alfred's smile turned into a flat line. "Yeah, Lien, of course." He went to the laundry room and, sure enough, the white basket in which the dirty clothes went was overflowing. He decided to dump them all in, knowing that the Oxi-Clean or whatever he'd bought at the store the previous week would keep the colors separate and all and only clean the clothes, taking out the stains and everything. That done, he turned the washer on and leaned back on the wall, waiting there with nothing better to do.

She looked around on Alfred's bookcase on his side of their office, in the meantime.

When the washer finished tumbling the clothes about, he took the wet clothes out of the washer, rather pleased that the colors hadn't run, and he put them into the drier, setting a time and putting in a fabric softener before closing the dryer and putting it on. He hummed "America the Beautiful" as he waited, deciding that now was the time to make breakfast.

She found, amongst the records of Supreme Court cases and presidential biographies, an interesting three-volume set, which she pulled out, letting some books written by some infamous newscaster fall down.

He dumped some pancake mix and other stuff into a bowl into which he poured some cracked eggs. The sound of a mixer was all that was heard through the house. When the batter seemed ready, he turned on the griddle and waited for it to heat up, like a hot plate.

 _Isn't that what it is?_

"'So long, Pop! I'm off to check my tiger trap! ...' ..."

Alfred poured the batter onto the griddle into circular shapes and waited for it to heat up, the yeast to rise, and the texture to be more... umm... bready.

She sat there, at her own desk, looking through the first of those three volumes.

He added some chocolate chips in before they became more like bread, of course.

"'It's fun to mess with their minds.' Wow... to think this humor is from three decades ago..." She looked up. "Back then..."

He put some coffee grinds into the coffee filter he'd placed into the coffee machine.

"'I think I'm using too strong a sun screen.'" _She giggled softly. What a cute tiger..._

He poured some water from the tap into the coffee pot, placed that water into the machine, set the pot inside, and flicked the switch. Soon, water came out, mixed in with the coffee grinds. At least, that's how Alfred imagined that it worked.

"'I've got plenty of common sense! ... I just choose to ignore it.' Oh, Calvin..." Lien smiled the most brightly that she ever had.

Alfred sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow, standing back and occasionally flipping the pancakes.

Lien went slowly through the pages, just... smiling.

* * *

"Lien! Breakfast is ready!" he called.

She set the book down and headed over to the kitchen. "It smells nice. What did you make?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes and coffee. And I made it just the way you like it. Hot and strong. Just like myself, the hero!" He gave himself a thumbs up and was all teeth with his grin. The wink just added to the reasons that Lien let out a giggle, rather confusing the American. Some wind pushed against the window, and the trees swaying were easily visible and noticeable, against a gray background.

"It's cold outside, huh?"

"Yes..." Lien smiled and poured herself some coffee. "Thank you for cleaning up, Alfred."

"Anything for you, Lien," he said with a straight face as he plated the pancakes and set two plates down on the table. Napkins, maple syrup - yes, Canadian - and forks and knives were already there. The two took their seats, and while the American whispered something to himself, with closed eyes and hands folded, the Vietnamese listened along.

 _Maybe I should go back to that..._ she thought.

The two began to eat. Lien looked out the window and sighed a little. "Do you think we should just stay inside, today? It seems as if it will be overcast, all day..."

"That sounds nice. ..." A giggle made Alfred look up at Lien with a raised eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing..." She chuckled softly and carried on, eating.

"You can tell me."

"... Calvin and Hobbes are funny."

Alfred smirked. "That they are. So are Charlie Brown and Linus and Lucy and Rerun and Schroeder and Patty and Violet and Shermy and Franklin and Pigpen and Peppermint Patty and Marcie and Sally and Snoopy and Woodstock... Calvin and Hobbes has a simpler cast, huh?"

Lien nodded and sipped some of her coffee. "... do you want to just be lazy, today?"

"Hell, yeah. We can lie down on the bed and read some Calvin and Hobbes, all day. Every strip. Marathon it!"

"Isn't it strange, how we remember the place from which the man ran and what he said before he died, but not what his name was?"

"Yeah... quotes, not names, are easy to remember..."

* * *

The moon, in its last quarter, stood out in the indigo-black night sky, but the many stars accompanying it drew Alfred's eyes away from the page. He turned back when he heard Lien clear her throat, and he started the strip from December 31, 1995. _That same date, 22 years later, isn't so far away._

"'Wow, it really snowed last night! Isn't it wonderful?' Pssh. Ah, really... if only we got as much snow as the place wherever these two live did..."

"Huh? Do you like it that much, that's you'd want it to cover the whole area where we live?"

"Of course I do! How could I not‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang in six of this story's seven chapters, was content.

"Well... I just wish that I could experience it... The snow, I mean. I really want to."

"It's because of all the fun Calvin and Hobbes have in the snow, huh?"

Lien nodded. "... 'Everything familiar has disappeared! The world looks brand-new!'"

Alfred smiled warmly at her. "'A new year... a fresh, clean start!'"

She smiled back at him, warming his heart. "'It's like having a big white sheet of paper to draw on!' Ah, if only I could draw..."

"Said everyone ever," Alfred said with a chuckle. "'A day full off possibilities!'"

"..." Lien kissed his cheek.

He blushed a little and chuckled softly, a sound Lien loved to hear. "'It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy...

Let's go exploring!'" The book was closed.

Maybe praying for snow would work. It didn't work for Calvin, but...

"Zzz..."

Alfred turned on the lights and fell asleep holding Lien as tightly and as close to him as he could. The two shared a dream about riding together in a sled - sorry, a toboggan - through a snow-covered forest.

Of course, it ended, in both cases, by a hard crash into the trees. But, as the two rested in each other's arms, buried in the snow, they were warm.

* * *

 **Calvin and Hobbes has always been my favorite comic strip. I hope you don't mind my having based a good part of the chapter off it.**


	7. Day 7: AU

**I decided to choose an AU over free day, as I wanted to have an epilogue, anyways, of sorts.**

* * *

There was cheering when the blue flag with a white cross on it was being waved through the town.

For many years, the small town of Hanoi did well on its own, separate from any of the kingdoms and republics surrounding it. One day, however, one of those kingdoms had a crisis, when King Ivan abdicated the throne of the Kingdom of Tsarina, and his younger sister, Princess Natalya, took his place. (Princess Yekaterina had already married Prince Francis, heir apparent of the Kingdom of Normandy.) She'd visited Hanoi before, and had been impressed by how well the town kept itself up. It held much fertile land that would produce large harvests year after year.

Soon, the flag of Tsarina was flying over it, and Tsarinan troops patrolled the entire place, making sure that only the worst of the crops went to the townspeople, while the best went to Queen Natalya herself. The town was suffering under her rule, and anyone who spoke out against her... "disappeared".

The Republic of Libertia, having always been a republic since its independence from the Brittanian Empire, heard the cries of the people there and sent its troops in. A massive firefight took place, leaving hundreds of Tsarinans dead, and only twelve Libertians wounded. Queen Natalya declared war, and control of the town fluctuated almost weekly.

Lien lived in a small house on the edge of the town. She didn't trifle herself over who controlled the town, as long as she could make enough food for herself. The Tsarinans didn't think her crops were very good, anyways, so they didn't bother her. She heard the gunfire almost daily - it went from being massive, loud volleys to massive, loud pops of multiple shots, each second, for multiple seconds.

Alfred was not nobody. He was an ordinary street vendor back in Libertia, famous for his chicken, but nobody had eaten it in six months, because six months before, he was thrown into the army and into a soldier's clothes. First he was given a breech-loading rifle that fired once, but soon, it was replaced by a breech-loading rifle that fired multiple times from one cartridge after every pull of a bolt behind the breech. One day, while he was patrolling the town, he noticed a woman in a green dress and white pants picking what seemed to be rice from a small - quite small - paddy near her house. Her features attracted him greatly. Lien noticed the man looking at her, but thought nothing of him. _Just another soldier with sweat and dirt all over his face..._

Alfred jumped when he heard the firing begin again. Lien paid no more attention to him, only looking up again after he'd disappeared. She went back inside her house with the rice she'd picked once the cannons started firing and the rockets began to explode, drowning out the rifle fire. It became fainter every hour until, by nightfall, it had just stopped. She'd gone to sleep, having eaten her fill. There were no other obligations in her life.

By the next morning, the Libertians had taken over the Tsarinan port city of Nova Kieva, but had incurred heavy casualties along their path. The dead and wounded were carried to Hanoi, which was serving as an official Libertian outpost, well within their controlled territory and with little threat of Tsarinan recapture. An old woman knocked on Lien's door.

"Tra My?"

"Lien... it's really bad... there are so many injured people... We need your help."

"Okay." She headed outside and towards the center of the town. Sure enough, on the ground there were many injured soldiers lying on and covered with blankets, many of which were stained with blood. Most of them were already being tended to, but she saw one person with nobody to help him. She ran over and recognized the sweaty, dirty face instantly.

Alfred was lying there, sleeping. He had taken five bullets to the torso before finally falling from an exploding cannonball near him. Shrapnel bits were all over his legs and sides. Lien looked at him in shock. She hadn't realized just how rough war was on the people fighting it. She'd thought of the armies constantly fighting each other as having been made up of crash, boorish, and foolish men with no humanity, but just looking at all the injured people near-instantly made her reconsider her previous opinion.

"Do you know what to do, Lien?"

"Anh Hung?"

"Just try your best to pull the bullets and shrapnel out, and make sure the wounds stop bleeding afterwards."

"..." She nodded and went to work on doing as he told her. Alfred woke up to Lien's trying to pull the first of the five bullets out, and he let out a cry, which he could barely hear over the commotion in the rest of the square. He found himself too weak to try and swat away the hand causing him pain, but he managed to turn his head, and nearly gasped when he saw who was tending to him.

"Hold still. It will hurt, I'm sorry, but you will feel much better later. You should be lucky that you survived," Lien told him blankly.

A few more cries of pain and bouts of heavy breathing later, Lien had finally pulled all the metal out of Alfred, and had begun to bandage him all over. "There, there. You'll be fine."

He winced and pouted softly. "... thank you... What's your name?"

"Lien. Yours?"

"Alfred... you have a pretty name, Lien."

"I've heard that, before." She stood up and looked down at him. "You should just rest there, for a while longer."

"... okay..." He watched as Lien walked away. _She's so... graceful... or... something... I want to get to know her._

* * *

The front kept on pushing further and further into Tsarina, until the capital, Russa, was completely surrounded. _Queen Natalya is quite tenacious,_ Alfred thought as he began preparing to leave for the front lines, having been cleared to return to official duty. He ventured back to Lien's house and, taking a deep breath, knocked on the door.

Lien opened it and was rather surprised that it was Alfred, standing before her. "Good morning."

"Hey, Lien," he began, smiling softly. "I leave today."

"That's nice." She crossed her arms and sighed. "Is the war almost over, Alfred?"

"Yeah... we've got Russa boxed in. It's only a matter of time until the Tsarinans surrender. A matter of time."

"Hmm..." She sighed and looked away, blushing softly.

"What's wrong?"

"... That day, in the square, when I saw you..."

Alfred tilted his head.

"... I don't want to see that, again. So, Alfred." She looked him in the eyes, strong, amber eyes that quite surprised him when he looked back.

"What?"

"Come back."

"... I will, Lien. I promise."

"But do you‽"

Your author, having used an interrobang in all seven of this story's chapters, was content.

"Yes!"

"..." She snatched his hand and held it firmly close to her heart. "I trust you." She let go and stepped back. "Stay safe, Alfred. God be with you."

"God be with you... too... you know the motto of Libertia, don't you?"

"'God is with us', yes?"

"Mm-hmm. I'll see you soon, Lien. ... Somewhere." He waved and ran off, hearing the sound of his company marching through the town in the distance. There was cheering when the blue flag with a white cross on it was being waved through the town.

* * *

Above the Tsarinan capital, the flag of four checkered blocks, red, blue, black, and yellow in clockwise rotation, was flying proudly above the grand castle, among the rockets and other explosions in the city below. Alfred, lieutenant of his platoon, led that exact platoon straight down the middle as the other platoons in his company gave him cover. One bullet went right through his shirt, grazing his side, and Lien came back to mind. One of his men was just in time when he pushed Alfred's head down, a cannonball flying right overhead. The platoon pressed forward and stopped to fire up at the walls of the castle, and the defenders trying to shoot back at them.

Alfred's men shot straighter, and watched in awe as the wall came crumbling down. There was a war cry heard all throughout the burning city as the Libertians charged successfully, dragoons leading them, through the wall. The red, blue, black, and yellow flag was soon taken down, and white flags were being flown from all over the castle ground. When the Libertians searched the castle, they'd found that Queen Natalya was not there, but she was soon found in the small village of Selo nearby, hiding out in her private residence. The place was surrounded until, finally, Natalya's guards stood down. Alfred had the honor of standing across from the remaining Tsarinans as they surrendered, and the Libertian President came to discuss peace with Natalya. They decided, soon afterwards, that the town of Hanoi would be re-mapped to include the surrounding plains and hills to become the City of Hanoi, a free city and buffer zone of sorts.

* * *

There were parties through the town for days. In the midst of one, Alfred managed to find his way out out of the massive crowd and stopped just in front of Lien's house, where a small fire was lit inside. He knocked on the door, which was opened to reveal Lien. She instantly tackled and enveloped him into a hug. "Alfred..."

"I came back."

* * *

 **I think that was all that needed to be said. An epilogue to the whole week will be up shortly!**


	8. Epilogue

"It's so beautiful..."

"Yeah... people forget it's a normal city."

Alfred and Lien had their own special cabin in the High Roller, one which could fit up to 40 people, but at the moment only had 2. At least 1,082 other people could fir into the rest of the 27 cabins...

"Want to watch eight things at once on these TV screens?"

"No, that's fine." She smiled softly and sat back. "Actually, I..."

"Yes?" He turned off the TVs and to face her.

"... I just wanted to sit with you and enjoy the scenery."

"... Yeah, of course!" He sat down next to her and was only mildly surprised when she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, Alfred."

"I love you too, Lien."

"... Las Vegas is so nice..."

"Yeah... and it has some nice pho restaurants."

"Mm. ... It doesn't sleep, huh?"

"Nope. Surely not."

"We do..." She hugged him from the side. "I want to go back to the hotel room."

"Already‽"

Your author, having managed to use an interrobang in each of the seven chapters _and_ the epilogue, was happy.

"This city is nice, and all, but... as you said, it's rather normal."

"Yeah."

Lien looked out the window. Right in view were the Flamingo and large white letters that read, "Hilton Grand Vacations". Caesars Palace and the Cosmopolitan were easily recognizable to her. There was the Paris, too, and in the distance the Mandalay Bay. Reds, blues, yellows, and all other sorts of colors were everywhere. Alfred looked into her eyes and saw that view reflected in them. That was possibly the window's fault, anyways. She turned to face him and was met with his pressing his lips to hers. With a motion of the hand, to drape his cheek, she kissed him back.

* * *

"Nah. Room service is too expensive... and there's a reason I wouldn't bother. Any time of the day, really." Alfred rested the back of his head on his hands.

"What reason would that be?" Lien pulled the sheets over here and rested the side of her head on the pillow as she faced Alfred, letting her hair flow all over the white pillow.

"Maybe it's because your hair is like chocolate," he said with a chuckle.

Your author, having managed to compare Lien's hair to chocolate, knew that, when he went to sleep tonight, he would be happy. Quite happy. ...

She blushed. "Really."

"No, it's because... your love is free. Is mine?"

"Of course it is..." She put her arms around him and held him tightly. "... how much do you love me, Alfred?"

"With all my heart. I don't even love burgers that much."

She giggled softly and rested her head, this time, on his chest. "And that's why I love you..."

"Because of burgers?"

"No... She looked up at him and held his chin up with her hand. "You're just so sweet."

"Like your chocolate hair?"

She chuckled. "And because you're funny, too."

"Well, Lien..." Alfred kissed her forehead for a second. "I love you because you make me happy. Do I make you happy?"

"Have you ever seen me laugh before?"

"Nope!"

"Well, why am I laughing, then?"

"... because you're happy." He smirked.

Lien nodded and yawned, looking past Alfred and out the window. "Look at the stars..."

He turned around, and though his eyes naturally gazed down to the city about them, he focused his attention on the sky. "I have fifty stars, Lien," Alfred began, turning to face a blushing Lien, continuing, "but you're the only one I need."

Lien chuckled again. "How romantic."

"What you mean is cheesy, yes?"

She nodded.

"I love you, Lien."

"I love you too, Alfred." She closed her eyes and fell asleep. He fell asleep a few minutes later, his last thought before then, being:

 _McDonald's for breakfast._

* * *

 **It's been hanafuda, it's been a time and a half, an honor, and I shall see you in the next story.**

 **Stay frosty.**


End file.
